


Make My Day

by delicatelyglitterywriter



Series: Girl Love/Girl Up [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Autistic Bobbi, Autistic Jemma, Female Friendship, Gen, autistic characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-06 15:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11603304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatelyglitterywriter/pseuds/delicatelyglitterywriter
Summary: Jemma would like nothing more than if she were friends with Bobbi Morse. So of course, when that happens, it makes her very happy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lostgirl966](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostgirl966/gifts).



Jemma looked up to Bobbi. Both in the metaphorical _and_ literal sense.

Bobbi towered over Jemma, and so Jemma was always having to lift her chin to see Bobbi’s face. Jemma also looked up to Bobbi in the sense that she wanted desperately to be friends with Bobbi. She was so nice, and smart, and funny, _and_ she was really good at Russian. Top of the class, in fact.

Jemma loved Russian. Not just because she enjoyed learning the language, but because she loved that she always got to sit next to Bobbi. They’d often have a few words of small talk on Monday’s class and Bobbi seemed genuinely interested in what Jemma had gotten up to. She really liked that about Bobbi.

Additionally, she really liked that they were often referred to as the twins of the class. No, not because of their height, but because they usually had the exact same pieces of stationery, got along so well, _and_ had a birthday only one day apart. People often found it funny that Jemma was a day older than Bobbi, and yet so incredibly short in comparison.

But Jemma always laughed it off. She really liked being Bobbi’s ‘twin’, simply because Bobbi was so amazing. So, Jemma decided that for Bobbi’s birthday, she was going to buy Bobbi something. After all, what better way to express friendship (she thought that’s what they had, but she couldn’t be entirely sure) than to buy a birthday gift for her?

So that’s what Jemma did. She went to store after store after store, in search of the perfect gift. The thing was with Bobbi is that Jemma didn’t know that much about her. Even though they talked a bit and sat next to each other, Bobbi wasn’t a particularly big sharer. So it was hard to determine what she would like, and Jemma had to search for a good week before she found something that she thought would be appropriate.

As school approached, Jemma became a bit nervous. She had second thoughts about whether or not she’d picked out a good gift, and feared that Bobbi might not like it. She also wondered what she would say to Bobbi. After all, it did have the potential to come off as a bit clingy or creepy. But Jemma brushed those fears aside. It was just a gift, not a nuclear bomb. There was no reason to be getting so nervous about it.

 

* * *

 

 

On the first day of school, Jemma handed the gift to Bobbi with a birthday wish, and left it at that. She felt a bit silly afterwards for being nervous at all. Bobbi had seemed very happy with the gift.

The week came and went, as did the weekend. On Monday morning, Bobbi came up to her and handed her a package.

“I just wanted to say thanks for the present,” she explained. “It made my day.”

Jemma accepted and watched as Bobbi walked away. She smiled to herself and put the gift in her locker. She’d open it when she got home. She had Russian again with Bobbi, but no word was said about the presents; they simply fell into their normal partnership in the classroom.

 

* * *

 

When she got home, Jemma took her bag upstairs to her room, and shut herself inside. It had been a particularly tumultuous day in dealing with the neurotypicals around her, and Jemma wanted nothing more than to cry and snuggle under a weighted blanket. Except that she didn’t have a weighted blanket, which sucked.

So instead, Jemma pulled the gift Bobbi had given her out of her bag, and opened the card. It was completely full of writing and Jemma started to read, cut off only by her emotions tumbling out of her eyes. She set the card down and lay on the ground and cried softly for a few minutes.

After she was done crying, she sat up and began reading the card again. As she read, a small smile made its way across her face. Bobbi had used the word “friend”, and Jemma felt a little less awful than she did before.

Bobbi considered her a friend. Jemma felt as if her life had just been completed.

She put the card back down and carried the gift over to her desk to unwrap it. She was careful with the wrapping paper, wanting to savour every moment of the experience. Inside the package was a notebook, a small pencil case, and an eraser. Jemma smiled. She loved it.

Very carefully, Jemma put the items and card away in her desk drawer. She didn’t want her family to know about this whole ordeal, because to her, it felt sacred; like a secret that was meant to be kept to herself.

Closing the desk drawer, Jemma went back to her bed and lay down on it. She needed a bit of time before she went back down and dealt with her family. She sighed, realising she was probably going to be nonverbal tonight, and hoped that there would be no need to speak.

She closed her eyes to settle down for a little nap, and allowed herself a little smile again. She liked being Bobbi’s friend. She liked even more that they’d managed to make each other’s day.

And that was the thought Jemma held onto as she dozed off.


	2. For A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Bobbi's turn to do something for Jemma first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Leah's fault.

Returning to school the next day, neither Jemma nor Bobbi said anything more about the gifts. Jemma preferred it that way - she liked the feeling of it being a secret, and she wasn’t big on making a big deal about small things such as gift-giving.

The two merely continued on as they normally did in Russian class, although Jemma felt that much closer to Bobbi. She wasn’t very good at reading Bobbi’s body language, and so was unsure whether Bobbi felt the same way, but she decided not to press. She felt that it was a very delicate thing, like china plates, and shouldn’t be tampered with. So she let it sit, and merely enjoyed it, similar to simply admiring a china piece.

It was roughly a month after Bobbi gave Jemma the gift that Jemma was reading in the library, as she always did at lunchtime. She tensed as the chairs at the table were pulled out, and the popular girls sat down. Jemma could recognise them by the scent of their perfume, and she dared not raise her head.

“Hi, Jemma,” Yvonne, the leader of the clique greeted sweetly. Jemma cautiously raised her gaze. They didn’t  _ seem _ threatening, but Jemma knew that looks could be very deceiving. But she knew it was riskier to ignore them than to engage. 

“Yvonne,” Jemma greeted drily, pulling her book closer to her. In her experience, the book was often the most obvious victim of these situations.

“So efficient!” Yvonne declared and all the other girls smiled sweetly. Jemma gulped quiety, trying not to narrow her eyes. That was never a good sign. 

She knew that the comment was simply Yvonne baiting her, but she gave in anyway. “What do you want, Yvonne?”

“What makes you think I want something from you, Jemma?” she asked innocently, topping it off with a bat of her eyelashes. Jemma felt her hand curling into a fist, and she bit back on her defensiveness. Creating a fistfight was not the very proper thing to do, not would it solve anything.

“You  _ never _ talk to me,” Jemma stated with a slight edge. “So do pardon me if I have my suspicions.”

Yvonne giggled, touching her lips lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Oh, Jemma, you are way too uptight. You gotta relax a little. Maybe working with me on the English assignment would be jsut the way to learn to loosen up.”

And there it was. 

Jemma pulled her lips into a tight line and slid her bookmark into the book. “No.”

“Come now, Jemma,” Yvonne reasoned, her voice as sweet as sugar, but with a threatening undertone seeping into her words. “You wouldn’t want me to fail now, would you?”

Jemma managed to look Yvonne in the eye for a split second before having to look away from the intensity of the contact, as well as the darkness in her eyes. 

“Well, really, that would be your fault,” Jemma said flatly, slamming her book shut and standing up. “If you just worked hard-”

She was cut off my Yvonne standing and pushing her back down in her chair. Jemma drew in a short breath and her heartbeat increased and she shrunk back from Yvonne, now towering over her. 

“Like I said, you wouldn’t want me to  _ fail _ now, would you?” Yvonne sneered, all grace gone from her tone. Her gang stood behind her, their arms crossed across their chests. Jemma’s mouth felt dry, and when she tried to speak, she found that she couldn’t.

_ HELP! _ she screamed in her brain.  _ HELPHELPHELPHELPHELP!!!! _

She couldn’t think straight; couldn’t think of a logical plan to deal with this; it was like her whole brain was running around screaming, unable to form any other coherent word other than “help”. She felt tears sting her eyes, but she fought them back; she focused on stopping them to block out the chaos in her brain. 

“If she says ‘no’, she means no,” a voice suddenly said from behind the group. Everyone froze and turned around to see who was telling them off. The movement created enough of a gap for Jemma to see that it was Bobbi. 

_ Bobbi. Bobbi is here to rescue me. _

The thought momentarily went into Jemma’s head, but wasn’t processed - the chaos in her head was too loud.

“And why do you care if we’re asking her for help?” Yvonne snapped. Jemma flinched a few seconds later at her harsh tone, at the same time as Bobbi scoffed and answered Yvonne.

“Asking for someone’s help shouldn’t end up with her almost in tears!” 

“Not  _ my _ fault she’s a crybaby,” Yvonne growled, stepping towards Bobbi. Bobbi scowled at her.

“You do  _ not _ call my friend a crybaby,” Bobbi growled right back. “And if I ever see, or hear of, you bugging her again, failing English will be the least of your worries.”

Bobbi quirked her eyebrow and stared Yvonne down, until she stubbornly backed down. 

“Fine,” she huffed primly. “Girls, let’s go.”

Picking up what was left of her dignity, Yvonne turned on her heel and flounced out of the library, followed by her posse. 

No longer overwhelmed by the scent of their various perfumes, Jemma found herself able to breathe a bit better. When Bobbi placed a gentle hand on Jemma’s knee, she flinched away. She didn’t like gentle touch. It was weird. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

It was at this question that the reality of the situation began to sink in. Everything that had been unable to be processed came in, and she took a moment to let her brain process all the information before answering.

“Are you okay, yes,” Jemma said slowly, before shaking her head. Why did she have to use echolalia right now? It was embarrassing. Bobbi didn’t know, and Jemma didn’t want Bobbi to think less of her.

“Are you sure?” Bobbi asked, overlooking her repetition. Jemma let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

“Just a bit shaken up, I think,” she said, still not looking at Bobbi. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bobbi assured her. “They’re not gonna bug you anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jemma broke out in a smile and finally looked up at Bobbi. She had nice eyebrows, Jemma noted. She’d have to ask about how Bobbi did that, sometime. Now was probably not the time, given the emotionality of the situation. 

“Thank you, Bobbi.” Jemma ducked her head at Bobbi’s warm smile. It felt like nice, hot cup of tea on a chilly winter’s day, and made Jemma feel really nice. 

“Anything for a friend, Jemma.”


	3. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma finds herself in detention. But, as usual, Bobbi is there to brighten her day because Bobbi is awesome like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure Leah likes this story more than Caroline does. She's the one who demanded this chapter. So yeah, this is, and probably always will be, Leah's fault.

Jemma pressed her hands to her neck, her heart skipping a beat again when she feels how warm her neck is. She briefly wonders whether she has a temperature from stress.

But that’s silly, isn’t it? It’s impossible to get a temperature from stress...right?

Jemma was suddenly unsure of everything she’s learnt. She gently rocks herself, forcing herself to take deep breaths. It’s just sitting in a room for an hour, working on homework. That’s all. Nothing inherently dangerous or scary. Why then, did Jemma feel this way?

She put her head down as other students began to enter. She didn’t need them to see her here. Hopefully the hoodie pulled over her head hid her face well enough. She didn’t want anyone seeing her here. She had a reputation to uphold. 

Plus, she wanted to go home. She’d already been at school for seven hours, why did she have to stay for eight? She hadn’t even done anything wrong! Well, at least not of her own free will.

She glanced over at Daisy who grinned back at her. She wondered what on earth Daisy could be grinning at. It was  _ her _ fault that they were sitting in detention. 

Daisy and her damn bad girl shenanigans.

She scowled down at her desk. It wasn’t exactly  _ her _ fault she’d had to klonk the janitor on the head with the fire extinguisher. It was Daisy’s fault for dragging her into this in the first place. That’s the story Jemma’s sticking by.

She crossed her arms over her chest, huffing angrily. She would make sure that Daisy knew that she was Angry at her. 

“Jemma?”

Jemma flinched at the sound of Bobbi’s voice. Slowly, she turned to her right, to see Bobbi sitting in at the desk next to her. 

“What’re you doing here?” Bobbi asked. “I always thought you were a good girl.”

“It’s Daisy’s fault,” Jemma grumped. “She dragged me into this...elaborate scheme to find out when her favourite teacher’s birthday is! It’s not  _ my _ fault that the janitor showed up! And the fire extinguisher was just  _ there _ and I reacted and…”

Jemma trailed off, burying her face him her hands. She’s not surprised when Bobbi laughs. 

“Oh, Jemma,” Bobbi giggled. “You are the actual definition of a cinnamon roll, too pure for this world.”

“Oh sure, laugh it up,” Jemma muttered, although she struggled to not smile herself. It was nice to be complemented by Bobbi. A minute or so passed, before Jemma asked, “so why are  _ you _ here?”

“Well, Klonsky's an ignorant jerk and I’m excellent at neurotypical patronisation,” Bobbi explained with a twinkle in her eye. 

“What exactly happened?”

“Well, I was fidgeting with a fidget cube, Klonsky told me to ‘put that down, Morse, and pay attention!’,” Bobbi recalled, mimicking Mr Klonsky’s voice. “And do I listen? Nope. I simply stand up, look at him, holding the cube up where everyone can see it and I fiddle as hard and fast as I can.”

Jemma gaped and covered her mouth, before taking her hand away to speak. “What happened next?”

“He says, ‘Sit down and stop fiddling or I’ll give you a detention, Morse’, even though he  _ knows _ fiddling helps me focus. But do I listen to him? Hell no. I echoed him in a monotone voice. That’s when he sentenced me to the oh-so-dreaded detention.”

Jemma had to cover her mouth to keep from guffawing too loudly. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” Bobbi confirmed, grinning from ear to ear. “It was awesome.”

“Just like you,” Jemma said before she could stop herself. She suddenly realised what she said and cleared her throat, looking down. “Sorry. I just meant-”

“Hey, no, I think you’re awesome, too,” Bobbi assured her. “I think it’s sweet you think that I’m awesome.”

Jemma managed to smile shyly, thinking back over the story Bobbi had just told. She stopped when she remembered something Bobbi said near the start.

“You said ‘neurotypical patronisation’,” Jemma ventured carefully. “Does that mean you’re neurodiverse?”

“Yep,” Bobbi said with a confident nod. The were speaking in low tones now so that the others couldn't hear. “I’m autistic.”

Jemma’s eyes went wide. “Really? Me too!”

Bobbi’s grin grew wider, if that was possible. “No wonder you’re so awesome.”

Jemma felt herself blushing slightly at the compliment, and then more at the new information. It was always exciting finding another autistic person. Bobbi seemed to feel the same way, because Jemma noticed Bobbi hitting her thigh with her fist. 

“What do you say we get out of here?” Bobbi whispered conspiratorially. “I find that ditching detention is one of the greatest forms, if not the greatest form, of neurotypical patronisation.”

Jemma grinned at her. “Lead the way.”


	4. Detention part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi and Jemma have something really special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is not Leah's fault. This one is my doing. You're welcome.

“Where are we going? Jemma whispered as she followed Bobbi down the hallway. Bobbi hushed her with a wave of her hand and peered around the corner. She then motioned for Jemma to follow. 

“I’ll show you when we get there,” Bobbi promised, motioning her along. Jemma picked up her pace a little bit to try and keep up with Bobbi. They rounded a few more corners, before Bobbi stopped her.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Jemma did as she was told as Bobbi disappeared through a door Jemma had seen in passing, but never wondered what was beyond it. Well, until now at least. She began speculating what could be on the other side of the door. Part of her hoped that it was a magical world, though she knew that that was an impossibility. It was more likely a secret passageway. But to where?

Jemma was snapped out of her thinking as she heard voices coming towards her. Adult voices. That meant they were teachers. Which meant she and Bobbi would be in even  _ bigger _ trouble. Jemma freaked out. 

She pushed open the door and ran inside before she could think of it. She was greeted by darkness as it shut behind her. She breathed deeply as her eyes adjusted, and she could see a rickety old staircase leading upwards. Bobbi was nowhere in sight.

“Bobbi?” Jemma shout-whispered, as not to let the teachers outside hear her. When there was no response, Jemma wondered if she should go up the stairs and look for Bobbi, or if she should just wait here. Waiting here would be safe, unless the teachers decided to enter. But that probability was quite low, since she’d never heard a mention of this room, nor seen anyone enter it. 

Jemma was about to decide to wait when she heard someone grab the handle on the other side. Her heart leapt into her throat and she acted quickly, locking the door, tearing off her shoes and bolting up the stairs as quietly as possible. 

At the top, she ducked behind the big red curtain that separated the entrance from whatever else was up here. Crouching down, she peered out to see Mr Thomas and Mr Hodge enter, talking happily, unaware of her presence. Together, they collected up some of the wood that was sitting in the corner and then left. 

As the door clicked shut, Jemma let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. That had been too close.

“Jemma!”

Jemma jumped at the sound of her name, and whirled around to see it was just Bobbi. She placed a hand on her heart and stood up, putting her shoes back on. 

“I told you to wait outside,” Bobbi said. 

“I know,” Jemma breathed. “And I’m sorry. But I heard some teachers coming this way and I panicked and…”

Bobbi nodded. “Good thinking. Come on.”

Bobbi then turned, not saying anything else on the matter, and led Jemma along some wood laid across the rafters, then through another secret passageway that twisted and turned every which way, until finally, the pair exited through another door. 

Jemma gasped softly when she stepped out. They were atop a hill overlooking the whole school in one direction, and the suburb in the other. She could see everything from up here! She could see the grade fours playing after school sport on the oval, she could see the bakery all the way over the other end of town, owned by Mrs Felgate; she could even see the lake!

“This is amazing!” she sighed happily, bouncing on her toes. Bobbi grinned in response. 

“I know. I discovered it three years ago when I snuck out of detention. I’ve been waiting to show it to someone since.”

“Why didn’t you show anyone sooner?” Jemma wondered, tilting her head. Bobbi shrugged, dropping her head and tucking a stray hair behind her ear. 

“Dunno. I guess it was just a really special place and I wanted to make sure I showed it to someone I liked enough to share it with.”

Jemma couldn’t help but smile. It felt really nice to know that she was the first person Bobbi had liked enough to show her this special place. She watched as Bobbi sat down in the grass, looking out over the town. She sat down next to Bobbi, a question suddenly coming into her head. 

“What about Hunter?”

“What about him?”

“I thought you two were, you know….together. But how come you didn’t show him this?”

“It’s...complicated,” Bobbi sighed. “We’re sort of on again, off again. It’s not special enough to have a place all of our own. You on the other hand, I know that this friendship will never be on again, off again. I dunno, it just feels right to reserve this place for my most special friendship.” 

Jemma nodded, letting a silence settle between them as she thought about what Bobbi had said. Her mother and father always said that the most special of friendships existed between spouses, but Jemma didn’t think so. After all, if that were true, why was the divorce rate so high? Surely the most special of friendships wouldn’t end in separation.

She much preferred what her Aunt Polly said often, about the most special of friendships being between females. Aunt Polly said that female friendships had a deeper meaningfulness than other friendships and so were the most special.

Jemma had never quite understood what Aunt Polly had meant until now. She smiled to herself and made a mental note to thank her aunt later for that wisdom. 

“I think so too,” Jemma said softly, not looking away from the town. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bobbi smile.

So she smiled, too.


	5. Exam Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma is Bobbi's little kitten, and Bobbi will always treat her as such

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content warning:** brief homophobic attitude and language
> 
> Translations at end of work

It was only eight o’clock in the morning when the class had to meet at school to go the oral exam. Jemma hated that it was Saturday morning; in her opinion, the weekends were made for sleeping in. So she was a little bit grumpy.

Mr Popov loaded his students onto the minibus and Jemma sat down at the front by a window. She liked the front of the bus better - the back was always too noisy. 

She instinctively turned her head when someone sat down next to her, and she couldn’t help but smile, albeit wearily, when she saw it was Bobbi. 

“Bobbi!”

“ _ Dobra utro _ ,  Jemma.”

Jemma nodded in acknowledgement of Bobbi’s greeting and yawned. 

“That’s very good. You’ll do well on this,” Jemma murmured sleepily.

“Little too early for you, hmm?” Bobbi murmured back sympathetically. Jemma nodded again. To Bobbi, Jemma looked like a little tiny kitten who needed a nap. 

Bobbi stretched out her arm behind Jemma’s head, and motioned for her to lay her head down. Jemma hesitated.

“Come on,” Bobbi coaxed. “Have a little nap while we travel there. I’ll wake you up when we’re almost there.”

This time, Jemma did as she was told and laid her head down on Bobbi’s chest. Bobbi had had an early growth spurt and so her large chest meant that Jemma didn’t fall down into her lap. She watched as her friend fell asleep on her and smiled. Jemma was so small and cute and Bobbi had an almost overwhelming desire to protect her. 

She stared out the window as Jemma dozed, quietly reciting Russian to herself. Everything she saw out the window, she’d name in Russian. She knew it wouldn’t be used in the exam, but if she practiced on random things, she’d have Russian words fresh in her head that would help her smash this exam.

At one point Bobbi caught herself subconsciously running her fingers through Jemma’s hair, like she was petting a tiny little cat. Bobbi went red and then laughed off her embarrassment. Jemma was asleep; she’d never have to know. Bobbi shook her head as she thought of the eight tiny kitties that were probably going to be running around her home when she became an old lady. 

Bobbi kept ‘petting’ Jemma as she stared back out the window. It was a nice sensation in her fingers, and she thought that Jemma wouldn’t mind too much. A while passed and Bobbi decided it was time to wake Jemma up so that she could have some time to get her energy up before the exam.

“Jemma,” Bobbi said, shaking her softly. “Time to wake up.”

Jemma groaned as she awoke. “Rwethereyet?”

“Almost.”

Jemma yawned and sat up, and rubbed her eyes. Bobbi supported her with a hand on her shoulder, until she was awake enough to function on her own.

“ _ Spasibo _ . ”

“ _ Chto nibit dlya vas, malenki kotenok _ .”

“Hey!” Jemma protested, hitting her bicep lightly. “I’m not a kitten!”

“No, but you’re small and cute like one,” Bobbi teased, running her fingers through Jemma’s hair again. Jemma smiled and ducked her head, eliciting a small chuckle from Bobbi.

“Gaaayyyyy!” the only ‘popular’ boy in the clas, Dylan, shouted at them from a few rows ahead. Jemma froze. Bobbi rolled her eyes.

“ _ Da, ya boodo ukrast' tvaya devochka _ !” Bobbi shouted back, flipping him off. There was a moment’s silence while everyone figured out what she had said, and the cheer that followed was well worth it.

“Fuck off, Morse!” he called back. 

“Dylan!” the teacher snapped, the whole bus instantly falling quiet. “That is enough!”

Dylan slid, defeated, back into his seat, and the regular chatter resumed thirty seconds later, at which time, Bobbi noticed that Jemma was trembling.

“Jemma?” she asked softly. “Are you okay?”

Jemma shook her head slightly. 

“Was it Dylan? Did he upset you?”

This time, Jemma nodded, and Bobbi pulled her in for a tight hug, soothing her. To her relief, Jemma didn’t cry, only shook for a little bit, until the bus stopped.

“There you go,” Bobbi comforted. “You’re okay. Ready to do this?”

“I think so,” Jemma said quietly with a small nod. Bobbi smiled down at her. 

“That’s my girl,” she praised gently, helping her up. “Come on, you’re going to crush this. I know it.”

She was walking behind Jemma, and so she couldn’t see it, but she knew that she had made Jemma smile. And that made her smile, too. 

Yes, they would crush this. And then she might steal Dylan’s girlfriend, just for kicks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my good mate Jaske who helped me translate the Russian stuff. You rock, dude!  
> (That being said, if you are Russian and the translations are wrong, let me know. No hard feelings Jaske)
> 
> Translations:
> 
> "Dobra utro, Jemma.” = Good morning, Jemma.  
> “Spasibo.” = Thank you.  
> “Chto nibit dlya vas, malenki kotenok.” = Anything for you, little kitten.  
> “Da, ya boodo ukrast' tvaya devochka!” = Yeah, I'm gonna steal your girlfriend!


End file.
